


Maybe I'm just in love when you wake me up

by Guilty_pleasure (Merriwa)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Christmas Time, Domestic Fluff, Honestly nothing but domestic fluff, Kid!Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-25
Updated: 2013-08-25
Packaged: 2017-12-24 02:59:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/934496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merriwa/pseuds/Guilty_pleasure
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Christmas morning in the Horan-Devine household.<br/>That's it. That's the entire story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Maybe I'm just in love when you wake me up

**Author's Note:**

> I blame [Héla](../users/vastlyunknown/pseuds/vastlyunknown) for giving me all those daddy!Niall feels.  
> I blame [Elena](lesquatrechevrons.tumblr.com) for encouraging me to lose myself deeper into Nosh!Fluff.  
> And I blame [Erin](fluffyfeels.tumblr.com) for making this readable for everyone with her amazing beta work.
> 
> a.k.a I refuse to take responsability for this.

It is a nice dream.

 

There are pancakes and ice cream involved. Chocolate ice cream with little colored sugary sparkles and whipped cream on top. Niall is sure it must be what heaven looks like. Maybe he died somewhere in between the announcement of Zayn and Liam's engagement and the dessert served yesterday evening? Or maybe-

 

“Daaaaad! Papaaaa! It's Christmas! Presents! Wake uuup!”

 

Niall rolls onto his stomach with a groan, sliding closer to the heavy body lying next to him, a warm hand immediately finding his hips.

 

“Come ooooon!”

 

Niall buries his face a bit more firmly into the pillow. Maybe if he ignores it long enough it’ll go away? But as soon as the thought crosses his mind, he feels cold fingers gripping his ankle.

 

“Daaaad! Papa! Get uuup!” He feels a much smaller body jumps into the bed, shaking his leg vigorously.

 

“Ni ?”

 

Okay so on a scale of one to ten, how awful would it be to pretend to that he had died in his sleep? “I'm actually dead.” Niall manages to utter out, but from the sound of it, it's more like “I 'ally 'ead.”

 

A low and throaty laugh echoes the declaration and a pair of warm arms circles his waist, pressing him against a broad chest, firmly ignoring the insistent shaking of their legs 

 

“You know it's actually eight? We manage to gain an hour since last year.” Josh whispers against his ear, a hot breath of air tingling Niall's spine. That shouldn't make him smile, much less snort because it's eight in the fucking morning and it's no time to be awake. Especially when spending Christmas Eve with your best friends to drink champagne. But it does.

 

“Papaaaa! Daaad! Please, please, please!”

 

Oh no. Not the begging. Not the puppy eyes. Niall  _cannot_  handle the puppy eyes so early in the damn morning. He tries to lose himself in the crook of Josh's neck but that traitor gently pushes him away, tenderly threading his fingers into Niall's hair.

Niall opens his eyes and – for a second – everything is blurry before he can make out the lines of Josh's smile, the fondness in his brown eyes and the crazy bed hair above. Like every fucking morning for seven years, Niall's heart does that looping thing in his chest. The one that reminds him that yes, this is his life and he's the luckiest man on earth.

 

“How are you so awake?” He asks with envy, ignoring his heavy head to brush his lips against Josh's smile in retribution.

 

“DAD! It's no time for kiss kiss it's present time!” And before they can discuss the matter any further, a smaller body lands between them, cutting Niall's ability to breathe for a bit.

 

“Careful there, little monkey!” Josh laughs, hands leaving Niall – who doesn't grunt at that because he has some dignity left thank you very much – to hug the little man wiggling between them. “We kinda still need your dad around, so don't go around breaking him, yeah?” and he puts a small kiss on top of his soft brown hair.

 

“But papaaa! It's Christmas can I have my presents now? Please, please, please ? Pretty please with a cherry on top?”

 

And he's doing it again, lower lip caught between his teeth, eyebrows pulled down and eyelashes fluttering at his father and there's nothing Niall can do to not sink into his pillow again with a dramatic sigh.

 

Scott Michael Horan-Devine will be the death of him.

 

“I'm going but you owe me Horan.” Josh says softly in his ear, kissing his temple before sitting up on the bed and announcing, “Okay little man, here’s the deal: You and I are gonna make breakfast for your dad and while we do it we’re going to let him rest for just a few more minutes so he can get his lazy ars- I mean bum out of bed and then we’ll open presents, alright?”

 

Scott's blue eyes turn toward Niall and his pink lips shape into a small pout. “But dad takes forever to wake up!”

 

“'M not!” Niall protests, lifting a hand to ruffle Scott's hair. “I promise I'll be there in a minute, yeah?”

 

Scott eyes him suspiciously. 

 

“Pinky promise?”

 

Josh laughs, earning a small punch in the shoulder from the little boy.

 

“Pinky promise.” Niall smiles, holding up his smallest finger for his son to take. Scott's smile is blinding when he does so and Niall just can’t resist the urge to pull him onto the bed and engulf him into a huge bear hug that has the boy wiggling to get out. Their son is six now,  _way_  too old for cuddles, thank you very much!

 

“C’mon, little man!” Josh says, unable to hide the fondness in his voice. “Let's get that breakfast started.” Next thing he knows Scott jumps on his back, his small arms lacing around his father's wide shoulders with a giggle.

He may be too old for cuddles, but  _not_  for piggyback rides! “Gallop, horsey!” Scott orders and his father obliges, rolling his eyes for good measure.

 

In the newly silent room, the bed is suddenly too empty and way too cold for Niall's taste. A few years ago he'd have just gratefully taken the opportunity to go back to sleep even for a couple of minutes (that would almost always turn into a couple of hours but he cannot be held accountable for his body's need for sleep now can he?). Especially when Scott got here. He was few months old and used to wake up almost every hour of the night, crying so loud that Niall got Josh to take him to the doctor twice a week to be sure that everything was okay.

 

Because honestly, what were they thinking? A baby? They were just two immature lads, clearly not ready to be dads! Who had this brilliantly stupid idea anyway? (Josh. No wait it was Niall, wasn't it?) Surely they were just doing it wrong, they'd never know what to do!

“Mr. Horan, please calm down.” The pediatrician had him sit down for a talk in his office after the third appointment of the week. “Scott is fine and healthy and you are doing extremely well so far for your son. You need to stop worrying. All children during that age don't make their parents’ nights restful, and of course Scott needs a bit more of adaptation from the orphanage but I repeat, you're doing very good with him. Give it a little bit of time okay?”

“But we don't even know what we're doing most of the time.” Niall had said lowly, trying to not sound miserable.

“No parents are perfect, Mr. Horan. You are doing exactly what other parents do: You're trying your best. Stop worrying.”

And Niall and Josh had tried. Of course the pediatrician was right and things got better eventually. Niall would be here when Josh freaked out and Josh would hold Niall close when he saw him biting his lower lip raw with worry. Of course they weren't perfect. But they were doing their best. And Scott turned out to be the best gift life had granted them with.

 

Niall manages to sit up, rubbing his eyes to chase away the last traces of sleep before stretching with a giant yawn.

8:15. In the fucking morning.

This isn't Jesus Christ's birth they're celebrating here, that's just Satan's big plan to make champagne hangover as painful as possible, Niall's sure of it. Grabbing one of Josh's hoodies, he quickly gets to the bathroom before heading to the kitchen, following the delicious smell of pancakes frying in the pan, threatening to reconcile him with early morning life.

 

Niall stops at the kitchen's door, feeling his lips twitch into a fond smile. Josh is holding Scott up above the stove by his waist – with what he guessed to be flour on his nose – while Scott is concentrating, a spatula in his hand, tongue caught between his teeth, watching the pancake in the pan like a hawk.

Ah. Niall taught his son well: Pancakes are serious business.

 

“Captain Pancake.” Scott's serious voice announces, head rolling back to look at his father in the eyes. “I think that one is good!”

 

And Niall cannot contain his laugh when Josh answers, trying really hard to keep a straight face. “Well sir, we must do something then!”

 

Ignoring his dads' fit of giggles, the six years old's attention goes back to the pan and slowly, carefully, twice-checking, slides the spatula under the pancake, cautiously lifting it out of the pan in an expert manner. (Josh only has to move the plate very slightly to avoid the food landing on the counter.)

 

“Is the first one for me then?” Niall asks hopeful.

 

“No!” Scott grins widely, “Papa got up first, so he gets the first pancake!”

 

And Josh – the smug bastard – maturely sticks his tongue at him, putting his son back on the ground.

 

“Oh, I see how it is!” Niall exclaims, faking the gesture of having a knife in the chest, “Nobody loves me! I'm out of here, how could you do this to me?!” and he collapses on a chair, pretending to cry for good measure.

 

“Pfff it’s just a pancake dad, grow up!”

 

The sentence echoes in the kitchen leaving Niall speechless and Josh roaring of laughter. Scott smiles sheepishly towards his dad, almost surprised by his own cheekiness. Niall's battle cry makes his son jump before fleeing in the living room giggling, avoiding Niall's grabby hands. Niall runs after him announcing loudly, “I AM THE KING OF THIS HOUSE AND I'M EATING CHEEKY MONKEYS FOR BREAKFAST!”

 

He chases him behind the couch, around the table and the TV, avoiding the giant lightened Christmas tree and the presents underneath, before managing to get a hold of the breathless boy and holding him up in the air, “What shall I do with this cheeky wee man now, hmm?” he wonders with an ogre voice, making him swing in the air while Scott is half-screaming and half-laughing in excitement.

“I KNOW!” Niall says suddenly, smiling evilly, getting his son down on the sofa. “It's time...for...THE GREAT TICKLE!”

 

“Nooooo!” Scott protests, trying to wiggle his way out of his dad's arms; but of course, Niall's stronger.

Careful not to hurt his son, Niall slides his fingers in the curve of his belly while Scott starts laughing hysterically, trying restlessly to get away.

“Daaaaad! Dad pleaaaase! Dad, stop! Daaaad!” But Niall goes on tickling, the neck, the belly, the feet; Scott has always been as ticklish as his father and Niall takes full advantage of it, leaving the kid panting breathless “You...you can...you can have the first pancake, daddy!”

 

“Much better.” Niall approves, enveloping his son in another bear hug. This time, Scott just quietly rests his head on his dad's chest, breathing heavily, nestling into his arms. Niall peacefully listens to his son's breathing, with eyes closed, feeling the small fingers curl into the back of his jumper. _Please don't ever grow up._

 

“Tell you what,” Niall whispers in his ear “Let's go make crazy loads of pancakes so that everyone can eat some and then...presents !”

 

“PRESENTS!” Scott squeals gleefully, all cuddles forgotten in order to run back into the kitchen with the happiest smile on his face. 

Niall might have lost his right ear in the process, but it's worth it. His son's smile makes his chest swell with happiness like nothing else in the world.

Except maybe Josh's tender kiss during the rare moments when they're alone together.

 

Walking back into the kitchen, ignoring his stomach's protest Niall asks loudly, “Where is my coffee, woman?”

 

Josh – who was taking care of turning another pancake in the pan under Scott watchful eyes – turns toward him, lifting an unimpressed eyebrow.

 

“I meant 'favorite husband'?” Niall offers, grinning like an idiot.

 

“I'm the only one you got Horan.” Josh comments rolling his eyes, unable to hide the smile in it, perching a demanding Scott in a chair to put him above the stove and giving him back the spatula.

 

“Ah, but you don't know that! I could have a colony of husbands hidden in Australia and you wouldn't know of it!”

 

“Don't kid yourself; nobody except me can support your lazy arse.” Josh retorts with a snort, taking a few steps closer to his husband.

 

“Language, papa!” Scott reprimands, fascinated by the miracle of cooking under his eyes.

 

“Sorry, little monkey.” Josh amends, reaching for Niall's hips to drag him closer and ending up breathing in his ear, “Your dad is being a brat, just asking to bottom tonight.”

 

Niall breath hitches and his face warms up. Yes. That's definitely a good plan. Actually, a perfect plan. Yes. Please. Niall shakes his head, hiding his face into Josh's neck and arguing quietly, “Don't you dare talk dirty to me when your son is dealing with the stove Josh Devine. Except, if that's a promise.”

 

“It is.” Josh states before lifting Niall's chin to lock their eyes together. Niall's heart does this thing again where it dances traditional Irish jigs inside his chest, “I love you, Niall Horan.”

 

And there's nothing Niall can do to stop himself from kissing Josh's words away, gently sucking at his lower lips, enjoying his husband's tongue against his, savoring the slightly bitter taste of coffee left in his mouth. “I love you too.” Niall whispers, out of breath before Josh kisses him back and he's not sure that kiss should be classified as kid-in-the-room kiss but Niall's brain isn't really doing its job properly right now. Josh's hands bring them even closer, to the point where Niall couldn't say where his body finishes and where Josh's starts but it's so nice and Niall feels so loved he might actually explode from too many feelings.

 

“DAD, PAPA! IT'S BURNING!” Scott's panicked voice interrupted them.

 

Niall pulls away with a sigh. “Tonight.” Josh promises, disentangling himself from his husband and quickly taking care of the burning pancake.

Niall can't help but smile.

 

\---

 

It takes about an hour for the breakfast to be eaten, a few drops of maple syrup lost on the floor, more coffee and then, when Scott cannot hold still for just a second more they give up and head to the living room. Niall nestles quietly into Josh's arms on the couch while their son literally jumps toward the Christmas tree, making little excited noises and clapping his hands together.

 

Scott scans the messily wrapped presents under the giant lighted tree like he cannot decide which one he wants to open first. Josh nudges Niall playfully when the little boy settles for the big red one and engages himself into ferociously tearing the wrapping paper around it.

 

“Told you he'd go for that one first, you owe me 5 pounds love.” Josh whispers in Niall's ear with a smug smile.

 

His husband groans quietly, trying to hide his smile, fondly murmuring, “Wanker.” before being interrupted by their son's voice.

 

“Siiiick! Just like uncle Liam!” Scott exclaims, looking adoringly at the brand new red toy fire-truck he just dragged out of its box. “Do I get a uniform too?” he asks, jumping on his feet, looking for another packet likely to contain his long desired fireman costume to complete his panoply of the perfect little fire-fighter. They totally blame it on Liam, their son's obsession with fire-fighting.

 

“I guess you'll have to find out, yeah?” Niall answers, slipping away from Josh's arms to grab his camera on the closest shelf before nestling back because somehow, the world seems always colder when he doesn't have Josh's body against his. And Niall is a strong independent (wo)man who ain't need no man thank you very much.

Except, well, maybe Josh.

 

“Let us pray he doesn't light something on fire to get an excuse to use it.” Josh giggles, threading his fingers into his husband's hair while Niall holds up the camera in Scott's direction to film the little boy tearing up the right package and getting his fireman clothes out with a shriek.

“Brilliant! Fucking brilliant!” Scott yelps, clapping his hands together while Niall laughs happily, feeling the fondness swell from his entire being.

 

“Language, little man! Or Santa will take all your presents back.” Josh scolds.

 

“Pfft Santa is gone now, so he can’t take my presents back!” Scott replies defiantly.

 

“Scott.” Josh raises his voice calmly, and that has his son quickly lifting apologetic eyes toward them.

 

“I'm sorry, papa, I won't swear ever again, I promise!” Scott says with a worried look that only goes away when Josh smiles approvingly. “It's okay, little monkey.”

 

“Hypocrite.” Niall breathes in his ear with a mocking tone, “You and I swear more than an army of sailors.”

 

“But he doesn't need to know this.” Josh replies with a snort after making sure Scott is back to his presents (the firefighter's helmet, Batman PJ’s, and a toy guitar, curtsey of Niall's adorable stubbornness, Josh will lie later because  _fuck Niall all the noise!_ ) and nuzzling Niall's neck, playfully biting the tender pale skin under his ear because he  _knows_  how sensitive his husband with that spot.

 

The younger man bites his tongue to keep his body from reacting too obviously to the touch, sending a falsely unamused look to his husband, batting his hands away. Josh grabs his fingers and intertwined them with his own, shifting their body so that Niall is trapped between him and the couch. Niall gives him a warning look that Josh is too happy to ignore in order to firmly press his lips against his husbands. Once. Twice. Just affectionate touches of lips. Fond butterfly kisses until Niall is kissing back softly.

 

“Don't you dare get things PG-13 with our son in the room, I thought we'd cover that.” Niall threatens between kisses, unable to help himself to lean further into the touch.

 

“I won't.” Josh promises with that spark of mischief that Niall doesn't trust one bit.

 

“Liar.”

 

“It was a mistake marrying someone that knows me too well, wasn't it?” Josh laughs quietly before pecking Niall on the lips again.

 

“Papa? Dad?”

 

Niall takes the opportunity to shove Josh off of him before that idiot actually manages to give him a boner during family time. “Yes, monkey?”

 

Scott stands in front of them, a slight worry in his blue eyes. It's an unusual behavior for him, seeing him so timid; the way he is biting his lower lip shyly, hands linked behind his back. If there is one thing their son isn't, it's shy. Scott is adventurous, loud, enthusiastic and cheeky as hell but  _never_ shy.

 

“What's up, son?” Josh asks curiously, sliding his arms around Niall's shoulder and resting his chin above his shoulder.

 

“At Childcare Mrs. Teasdale said that, um, even if I'm not Santa I could give you a present. Is that true? Because...I made this for you.” Scott says with a little blush looking at the ground and pulling out a colored sheet of paper from behind his back.

 

Niall and Josh exchange a smile before Niall holds out his hands to reach for his son. “Of course, little monkey! C'mere.”

 

Bouncing into his dad's laps, Scott holds out his paper for his fathers to take. “Thank you, love, it's very nice.” Niall says, ruffling the boy's hair affectionately.

 

“Dad stop!” Their son scolds, scrunching his nose and batting his hands away which makes Josh laugh again. The drawing on the paper is amazing. It's obviously a caricature of Niall with his guitar and Josh with his drum kit; it's all colored in a very recognizable style that is definitely not Scott's except for the words just above, spelling in sloppy handwriting:  **Merry Christmas Daddies**!

 

Niall grins and shakes his head while Josh asks, “Uncle Zayn drew this, didn't he?”

 

Scott giggles sheepishly and hides his smile into Niall's chest. “He did not! I did it all by myself!”

 

“Well, it's beautiful either way. Thank you very much.” Niall says, kissing the top of his son's head and Scott grins happily, “Merry Christmas!”

 

“Thank you little man. Merry Christmas to you Scott. I think I have just the right frame for it, I'll be right back yeah?”

 

“M’kay.” Scott smiles contentedly, jumping off his dad's laps, looking rather proud of himself.

 

“Can I put my uniform on, Dad?”

 

“Yes–“

 

“Yay!”

 

“– after you take a shower.”

 

“Urgh.” is Scott's answer that makes Niall snorts. “Do I  _have_  to?” he asks rather desperately like the idea of the shower itself is offending him. Niall blames the daily struggle to get his son to wash himself on Josh.

 

“Yes, you have to love, do you know why?” Niall asks.

 

“Hmm…nope.” Scott replies, sitting crossed legged under the tree, hugging his red truck against his chest protectively.

 

“Because in two hour, Sadie and Mara will be there with Uncle Haz and Uncle Lou to have lunch with us and they probably don't wanna play with someone that smells like a little unwashed leprechaun.”

 

Scott's frown morphs into a pout telling Niall he earned points with bringing the twins in the argument. “Will Uncle Liam and Zaynie be there too?”

 

“Yes.” Niall confirms. “And if you behave well, Uncle Greg and Theo and Evey might even come for the day tomorrow.”

 

“AWESOME!” Scott jumps, pumping his fists in the air, his little tantrum forgotten. It's been months since Scott has seen his cousins and, as much as he loves Harry and Louis' twin girls, closer to his age, Scott looks up to his eldest cousin like to no one else. The kid will literally do anything Theo tells him to so Niall and Josh are thankful that Evey seems to have a special radar to stop the boys before they get into too serious trouble.

 

“So, shower first yeah?”

 

“Fine.” Scott caves in, scrunching his nose, looking regretfully at his costume.

 

“Come on, monkey! Up you go! I'll be there in a minute.”

 

Dragging his feet, Scott slowly makes his way upstairs.

 

“Did you just convince him to take a shower?” Josh asks, coming back into the living room with a new frame around their son's – Zayn's – drawing.

 

“Yup, because I'm a much more responsible father than you are, wanker.” Niall replies, making grabby hands until Josh is once again pressed against him.

 

“Of course.” Josh rolls his eyes before sliding his fingers in between Niall’s and pulling him gently toward the Christmas tree. “Come here Mister Father-of-the-Year! If we are to trust your spawn, presents are in order today.”

 

“What? You mean my present isn't crazy wild sex tonight? Such a disappointment, Devine!” Niall retorts, letting himself get pulled onto the floor in front of the last two wrapped up present still sitting in the battlefield of wrapping paper and cardboard boxes left on the floor. “A real failure as a husband, I should ask for a divorce this instant!”

 

“Shut up, Nialler.” Josh scolds, not unlike the way he scolds their son when he's being dumb on purpose. “You're such a dick, see if I still wanna fuck you tonight if you keep up that attitude.”

 

“What, no sex? Josh you were pathologically unable to keep your hands off me with your son in the room, don't make me laugh!” Niall snorts grabbing the present he had wrapped for Josh earlier this week.

 

“Why did I marry you again? Temporary lapse of judgment. Louis had me drink too much again, didn't he?

 

“Probably,” Niall approves fondly, “you could never hold your drinks anyway.”

 

“Dick. Now, open this before I change my mind.” Josh retorts, giving him a small package wrapped in shiny blue paper.

 

Curious, Niall – much like his son – viciously tears open the paper impatiently and a smooth piece of clothing falls between his fingers. “Is that... Josh Devine!” Niall exclaims, looking in awe at the black and white football jersey that looks a bit old and has marks of sharpie on the bottom left corner. “Is that the jersey from our first Derby FC game together back in the days? Where - where did you find it?”

 

Josh's smile is blinding and makes his eyes crinkle at the sides. “Zayn found it in the back of his closet where he kept the stuff from your former flat sharer when he and Liam moved six months ago.” he explained, “I thought I'd keep it for a special occasion. Merry Christmas love.”

 

“I take back everything I said, you're the most perfect husband in the world!” Niall says in a rush before throwing his arms around Josh's neck, claiming his lips fiercely.

 

“You are... so... corruptible... Niall Horan.” Josh pants between heated kisses before biting playfully at Niall's lips, sliding his arms around the thinner body to keep them the closest possible.

 

“And you, are a master of corruption, no wonder I got tricked into this marriage.”

 

“If that helps you sleep at night... the truth is that you are so in love with me you couldn't live another day without me!”

 

“If that helps you sleep at night...” Niall mocks, lips melting against Josh's once against. Sucking gently at his tongue, nibbling his bottom lip, breathing in every bit of passion and desire they feel for one another. After all these years he’s still so in love it blows Niall's mind on a regular basis.

 

“You may have everyone fooled, but not me.” Niall says in a hushed tone, out of breath against Josh's mouth, “I know your secret.”

 

“Go ahead, enlighten me.” Josh whispers back, grazing their lips together.

 

“You are, in fact, the worst sap ever.” Niall says with a giggle, and Josh blushes a little, hiding his smile in the crook of his neck.

 

“’M not. Shut up. I just happen to be very fond of your stupid face when there's a smile on it.”

 

“Jesus, please be more romantic then, I dare thee!”

 

“Thought I was a sap...?” Josh sasses back with a teasing peck on the lips.

 

“Shut up and open your present, I have to go make sure your son isn't drowning himself to escape using soap.” Niall retorts, rolling his eyes and getting up to his feet but not before getting rid of his tank top to put the football jersey on with a stretching grin.

 

“Just go already!” Josh mutters, watching his husband wink at him and climb the stairs quickly shouting, “IS THE CHEEKY MONKEY IN THE SHOWER ALREADY OR WHAT?”

 

Josh shakes his head with a fond smile.

 

His boys. They'll be the death of him. Death by adorableness. He can hear their giggles reasoning from the upstairs bathroom. Niall has always been better at making monster voices than him. Sometimes Josh feels like he has two kids instead of a husband and a kid but that's okay. He wouldn't have it any other way. They always manage to make it work somehow.

 

He turns his attention to the small box in his hand enveloped with sloppy wrapping paper and too much cello tape, screaming that Niall did it himself. Not much for wrapping presents, that Irish one.

Josh had offered to wrap all of Scott's presents when he heard Niall's first frustrated groans, which the other man accepted gratefully. Trying to take away all the tape, Josh is careful not to damage the little red box that looks suspiciously like a ring box. That makes Josh curious, absent-mindedly turning his gold wedding band around his finger, what on earth could Niall –

 

It's a ring. Wait. It's actually his wedding ring. Or it does looks like it except, he's wearing it right now! Quickly he takes the one he's wearing off his finger to look at it more closely. He cannot help a laugh from escaping his lips. He sees it now. The gold color fading from the inside, rusting like a cheap fake gold ring – which the one they brought was certainly not, Niall made sure of it.

 

Niall James Horan, you sneaky bastard! Somehow he must have switched his actual ring for this one and...and what? Curious, he takes a closer look to the true ring, and he notices, right there. There is now an elegant writing inside, carved in the precious metal like a secret. Josh's heart feels like it's gonna explode because the quote Niall has chosen is perfect. It makes him want to laugh and cry and sing at the top of his lungs and where is this fucking leprechaun right now for Josh feels the mighty need to ravage him thoroughly until Niall feels as loved as Josh feels right now.

 

“PAPA, LOOK! I'm a fireman, like Uncle Liam!”

 

Scott is standing in the doorway, all dressed up in his uniform, axe and helmet in each hand with a shit-eating grin on his face “Who kidnapped my son and replaced him with that heroic handsome child?” Josh laughs, getting to his feet and sliding his ring on the fourth finger of his left hand.

 

Scott giggles and run past him toward his truck toy he left on the floor near the couch and Josh takes the last few steps toward Niall to envelope him into a surprisingly innocent hug.

 

“So...you like it?” Niall’s muffled voice enquires against his ear and the man's breath tickles him slightly.

 

“It's wonderful.”

 

“Really? I was...I was afraid that would be too...but...it's our joke and our song and –“

 

Josh presses a chaste kiss on Niall's lips and then his forehead, cutting him off, “It's perfect. I love it. I love you.”

 

Niall’s breathing eases with relief. “Merry Christmas Josh.”

 

Josh drops one last kiss on his lips before stating playfully, “Now woman, we have guests coming in an hour or so, don't you have cooking to do?”

 

“Only if you make yourself presentable,” Niall replies sassily, rolling his eyes. “And maybe if you didn’t stink so much.”

“I take offense to that!” Josh laughs, ruffling Niall's hair.

 

“Well take offense in the shower, yeah!” Niall retorts, poking his tongue out and pushing him away gently. Maturity. Their strong suit is maturity.

 

“You'll have to be punished for that, you aware Horan?” Josh calls while walking backwards towards the stairs; not wanting to miss one bit of Niall's bashful blushing at the suggestive words.

 

“You're shameless, aren't you?” The Irish lad asks, shaking his head fondly.

 

“You love me for it, don't even deny it!” Josh exclaims happily.

 

“But only when you wake me up!” Niall retorts with a glint in his eyes and Josh instinctively rolls the newly returned ring around his finger with a wide grin, blowing a kiss to his husband.

 

**You drink as much as me, and I get drunk a lot.**

 

Are the carvings inside the ring. The first few years of their relationship in a nutshell. Booze, parties, video games and Ed Sheeran. This is not the kind of quote you carve on a wedding ring but it's just  so... _them_. So  _them_  that it's perfect. As perfectly dysfunctional as their son who is currently in the living room, using a remote as a fire hose to save the perfectly fine Christmas tree from burning to the ground due to imaginary fire. And Josh would not exchange his place for anything in the world.

 

**Author's Note:**

> So... yay? :)   
> I hope you liked this and thank you so much for reading!  
> Feedback is my life so feel free to tell me whatever you thought of it either here or on whambamziam.tumblr.com
> 
> Much Love xx  
> -Al


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